Quiet Life
by CampionSayn
Summary: Oh, what it must be like to owe a woman that must be a trillion years old one dinner a week for paying your bail.


Title: Quiet Life  
>Summary: Oh, what it must be like to owe a woman that must be a trillion years old one dinner a week for paying your bail.<br>Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, nor do I make any money writing this fic. I also don't want to be sued.  
>Warnings: Mentions of sex, various felonies, swearing, etc. Actually, this is rated 'M' mostly because I'm paranoid and careful.<br>Dedication: Oh, this is probably best dedicated to **HarleyPan**, considering that this was inspired by reading her Batman crossover fic, _Deeds in the Past_chapter three. I'm grateful for fresh inspiration anywhere I can get it.

This was originally to go into my chapter fic '_Twinning'_ but, well, it worked as a standalone. At least here, as a one-shot, I don't have to connect it to and think about the gore I administered on the downtrodden jester. Thank god for fluffiness!

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><p>Ghoul, Woof and Deidre were sunk deep and peacefully into the—to normal and respectable and able to pay for a much, much better—Apricot Illusion and Moth colored sofa that they had scavenged out of an alley after the Jolly Jack factory had blown sky high and they had settled into what had, once upon a time, been the Blue Rose Hotel, that sat in its lonely, desolate state directly below an overpass made specifically for trains. They had just pulled off the theft of a two-bit money laundering car dealership and were feeling pretty damn tired. And, really, after running away from gun-toting six foot tall behemoths with German and possibly Norwegian accents that they could no longer beat down since Bonk had been put down by the Joker (wherever the fuck he was now), who could blame them?<p>

Of course, Chucko and Delia had shrugged it off, taken their share of the creds and walked out. Or, in Delia's very special case; walked out, gotten someone to buy her some very good alcohol, and had come back a half an hour ago with J-Man—the slimy, truly worthless, self-proclaimed Second Joker—with both of them laughing and removing each others' clothing just before locking the door to Delia's room.

The three most respectable people in all of the Jokerz gangs (in Gotham and throughout the province of the entire US) were perfectly comfortable upon their perch. Ghoul was staring unblinkingly at his laptop—the one he dragged about for quick hacking or internet browsing, rather than the one used to really get into business that stayed in their lair at all times—and lightly tapping the ivory keys every other second. He was only browsing dining sites, actually. None of them had eaten since the day before, and it was sort of tradition for one of them to buy everyone some fast food once after a successful heist, where no one had been hurt or caught. It was his turn this time.

Woof was in a half asleep state, legs and arms curled under him as he was on the far end of the couch, and eyes half-lidded as he attempted to pay attention to the TV—that they had actually gotten at a third of its price at what the Deeds referred them to as a very old, but still in business flea market their grandmother had dragged them to so often that they could find anything they needed with their eyes closed—that was showcasing a sort of…well, he was pretty sure it was an ancient horror movie marathon. It was currently presenting the second act of the very first Bride of Frankenstein. The one that was black and white and with a lot of background noise. Deidre was watching as well, but her legs were over the back of the couch and her head was touching the ground. Because of the position she was in, she had thrown her wig and cap onto the counter over in the kitchen and her long yellow hair was splayed out in all directions—it was actually a stark contrast against the slightly torn and scuffed up Raven and Grenadine carpet, but Woof and Ghoul kind of liked that.

Ghoul ceased his tapping and ran a hand through his own hair, its slightly darker color than Deidre's running through his fingers as he worked the kinks out. Bringing it out of the tangles, he gripped his laptop and set it on the floor for both of the other two to see.

"What do you think of Mongolian from Galaxy Railways for dinner," Ghoul asked gingerly, bringing his left leg out from under him to get the blood flowing. Woof's mouth seemed to water as his eyes opened completely, eyeing all of the meat that the image on the screen showcased. Lord, those chef's over at Galaxy Railways were good at what they did, causing Woof to usually go there when he had the money and actually try not to terrify the waiters when he ordered. Ghoul had to come with him on those occasions to make sure that they didn't call animal control, but the food was still good.

Deidre was about to nod, but in the motion her head was making, her eyes caught the tiny little numbers at the screen's edge that told the time and date. Thereupon, she changed position so she could see it clearly and, with no reason that the other two could fathom, flipped from the couch and bolted for the disposable phone she had bought just after their last time with The Joker himself.

And then, to their further surprise, she started using language that she usually didn't ever use as she was (and they had come to term to this immediately after meeting the twins, as it was the first real thing that they could use to tell one from the other) the nice twin, "Shit, shit, fuck, shit-!"

And as her hands touched the phone, the device gave off the ringtone that the two young men had become familiar with over the course of their last month. It was deceptively chipper and sort of used to calm the nerves as the recording, _"…She's a hurricane in all kinds of weather! Jump in the line…"_played out inside her palm.

Deidre's thumb found the tiny green button on the phone and answered with a false and near perfectly friendly, "Hi, Nanna! I was just about to call you!"

Both Ghoul and Woof completely forgot about their would-have-been meal and started the task of helping the younger twin out. This was way better than watching an ancient horror movie marathon as the risks were real. In more way than one.

Since they had come back together after their arraignments and postings of bail and—in the Deeds' case, since they were the youngest out of all of them—their bouts of community service, the Jokerz had been careful about where they stole from and even more careful about who they did business with. They had no problems with the Bat so far and had remained anonymous and out of the eye of the news. However, that was not to say that they were not without their own problems. As it were, the twins' grandmother, having paid their bail and gone with them to court and the like, had made a deal with them. Since she had no illusions as to what they did and couldn't well get them to cease their activities, she had gone with blackmail and guilt. They were to visit her once a week for dinner with her and remain in her company for at least three hours, otherwise she would call the police and inform them about where the gang was stationed and—better still—give the cops as much information as she had.

This would all have been fine, but, unfortunately, the one catch was that both twins had to attend the dinner. Deidre would always go, no matter what, and always with the most guilty expression if ever she was late (which happened twice already because of her crazy schedule), but Delia had this nasty habit of not going if she could possibly help it. The older twin didn't like the old woman and had only made an appearance with Deidre twice since they were freed from community service. And that was because she either had nothing better to do, or Deidre had practically ripped her arm off while dragging her out the door.

"Yes, Nanna, I know that the dinner's tonight," Deidre answered the voice on the other end of the line, kicking off her boots while simultaneously grabbing a washrag from inside a kitchen drawer, turning on the sink's faucet to help wash off all the white and red from her face, "Yes, I know that I probably should have called to confirm that we were coming, it's just—"

The voice on the other end rang out and Woof's ears folded onto his head while he helped get the choker off of Deidre's neck, claws slipping under the leather and clinking against the metal. The murky water that ran down the twin's face sleeked his fingers as he brought the leather around, sticking to his fur. Neither of them paid much mind as Ghoul walked into her room to grab some clothes for her to choose from to wear. Deidre wouldn't grab Delia until either J-Man got out of the room or until the last minute. Whichever came first, though they all knew it would be more likely for Deidre to wait as J-Man never, ever left until one of them kicked him out, or the he and Delia ran out of steam for sex, or out of beer and wine or whatever to sustain them.

Blue eyes crinkled with Deidre's wince, hand tilted the phone away from her ear a bit. Nanna's voice tended to crack and sound all the more threatening over the phone. A lot more like in real life, but seeing as there was no face to play off of; it was actually a little worse.

The voice ceased as the paint was completely off of Deidre's face and the blonde went back to her truthful—as as close as any in the hotel could get to truthful—explanation/apology.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'll remember to call next time," she deadpanned, dropping the washrag with a splat into the sink, the voice beside her ear talking again before she continued, "Yes, of course we're coming. We just, uh, might be a little late."

Ghoul came walking out of Deidre's room (nice and tidy little thing that it was, compared to Delia who had set up in the freakin' Governor's Suit), holding in his hands three different dresses and pants with shirts, a set of Deidre's boots hanging by their laces in his teeth. If his friends had any less emotion, they would have commented about "When you came out of the closet, you weren't supposed to bring your wardrobe" but they were more mature. Or, at least these two were. Delia had used that phrase twice, Chucko thrice, and Bonk (my he rest in peace) no more than six times.

"I don't know, Nanna," Deidre sighed, removing the boots from Ghoul to set them down on the counter as Woof assisted in taking one of the dresses (a fabulous blue sundress with an imprint of three green leaves on the bottom that they had both seen her in before) and held it out for her to study, while Ghoul extended his arms and showed off the other dress (black and really long with red silk arms) and the shirt with pants (a blue Cardigan with jeans that really accentuated her…personality), "Maybe an hour or so?"

The voice crackled again and Deidre rolled her eyes. She also snatched the blue Cardigan from Ghoul, as well as the sundress from Woof. She really liked the way the sundress showed off her upper torso, but she was going to dinner with her grandmother. Her now fairly _annoyed_grandmother, who would leap at the chance to remark on indecency in general. The Cardigan was a good bet to at least hide her shoulders and…the things on her chest that didn't really have a cup size, they were so fucking small—moving on.

"Okay. We'll be there as soon as we can. I love you too, Nanna. Bye."

Dropping the phone onto the counter, right next to her wig and boots, Deidre let out a loud, echoing moan. Woof and Ghoul felt her pain.

"She slagged off?"

"More disappointed," she answered, starting to remove her shorts, not caring much at the moment about the two males before her as they had seen her in just her underwear and bra before. They'd seen Delia full-out naked (who was a good two breast sizes bigger than her and a whole lot more to look at) and scoffed; there was really nothing to admire about Deidre herself, "And who can blame her?"

Woof gave out something like a whine, somewhat feeling pity for the younger twin. He and Ghoul did not have family that gave a damn about anything they did or if they were alright, so they could only imagine to actually have a grandmother who not only cared enough to call every other day, but invite them over each week for a free dinner. The guilt would probably eat them alive.

As Deidre removed her shorts entirely, Ghoul continued, Woof picking up the shorts and remained ready to pick up her top when she removed that as well, "So what are you having this week?"

The blonde groaned again, shirt tossed and the boys averted their eyes. Of all the Jokerz, the three of them tried to be decent to each other, so the boys would keep their eyes pointed in a different direction until she was dressed. They weren't prudes, of course, they were red blooded men, but they tried not to be perverts either.

"We're having a western style dinner tonight."

"Meaning?" Ghoul questioned, eye just registering in his peripheral vision her putting on the dress, fingers lightly tying the little strings in a petite bow in her front. The bow itself rested on her right hip and the strings length left-over of it tickled her outer thigh.

"Meaning that she went through the trouble of making mashed potatoes with peas and onions, corncobs doused and seasoned, peppered chicken bits and, of course, barbequed ribs—which I know aren't going to be eaten now, because, let's face it, Delia's loaded and Nanna can't eat it without risking a heart-attack."

Finishing putting on the Cardigan, which was a button-up and gorgeous on her (like everything else), she sighed, and they turned back to see her putting on the boots she had chosen—reaching up to her knees with an aesthetic silver buckle on eat foot—with blood rushing to her cheeks in an attempt not to cry.

Woof hesitated for a blink, before coming to stand beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. She accepted it, and gave yet another sigh, her own hands braced against the counter as she looked at the imprints in the wood like they would tell her the future or her hopes and dreams. Or…

"Would you two come with me?"

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><p>Ghoul is probably the first to come out of his shock induced haze as Deidre knocks on the warm wooden door just beyond the clean and well kept porch that the three of them are standing on. All are in civilian clothes, which is strange in and of itself.<p>

His fingers absently run over the suddenly makeup devoid skin along his mouth and gaunt cheeks, under his eyes that are still a little dark because of his unhealthy inability to sleep properly, and the line of his hair without his witch's hat sitting upon it.

Woof is making similar motions, but more because he is wearing clothes of his own that Dee had cleaned without his knowledge and go-ahead and he is trying to understand how she had gotten them dressed properly (Ghoul now wearing a dark grey button-up shirt with long sleeves to hide his various scars and tattoos, and baggy black pants that were still his, though he had not seen them in a while and Woof wearing a long-sleeved version of his blue jacket and un-ripped black pants), stuffed them into a car that they had stolen a week ago and gotten them to the Deeds' childhood home without one of them trying to escape.

And then, somewhere in the back of their minds, as the door opens and Deidre smiles for real for the first time in a few days, they remember that the twins are sneaky and clever. A deadly combination to be sure, but they never thought that their power was so great as to get them to have dinner with their grandmother.

The old woman is, well…old. She has a bit of a hunchback and grey hair and is leaning on a cane, looking at her grandchild before glancing at the boys.

Ghoul and Woof are not sure if they should be worried when she raises an eyebrow, actually smiles at the two of them and says, very mellow and calm, "Well, at least the food will get finished this time."

Both of the boys blink at the woman like she's a figure from another world and Deidre just gives a tiny little chuckle.

"Well, bring them in and introduce them, silly girl," the crone orders lightly, moving back into the house at her own steam, near ignoring them altogether as she moves for her kitchen. Deidre follows the directions and pushes both of her boys in, door slamming with her nervousness.

"Yes, right, sorry, Nanna," Deidre stutters more or less, slipping out of her boots and sets them next to the door (she did not need a lecture on leaving footprints on the carpet again), "This is Woof and—um,"

Ghoul is also removing his shoes—thank God he was wearing clean socks for once—and both he and Woof look over at the blonde for a second before she recovers, still unsure, but a little better.

"Carter," Deidre finishes, she and her grandmother setting two extra places for the extra guests, a treat Harley hasn't had in a good long time, "Woof the splicer and Carter the…computer expert. You remember that I told you about them?"

Ghoul isn't quite sure how he feels about an old lady knowing him by his middle name, but decides it's much safer than being referred to by Winthorp or—God forbid—Stewart. Ugh, the horror!

"Hm, yes, I remember," Harley states, grinning to herself as the two young men just sort of stand in her living room, eyeing her books along the cases built into the walls, the small TV off in a corner covered in dust and, most beautiful, her piano. The man Deidre refers to as Carter is paying most attention to the piano and the old woman grins and speaks clearly to him, causing him a little jump.

"Not much to look at I know. But, I hardly have money or space for a bigger one."

Ghoul blinks owlishly at the old woman, but when she nods at the piano twice—once even going so far as to wave her hand from him to the bench before the music piece—he realizes that she is allowing him to not only touch it, but to play something.

He hesitates and looks over at Deidre, that face of hers trying hard not to break into a wide, Cheshire cat grin, and when she gives the go-ahead, he finds himself speaking—actually attempting to have a conversation—with Harley. He sits down (lord, this is a comfortable bench; not at all like the one he learned to play upon during childhood) and starts talking, near and almost exactly in time with his fingers gingerly stroking the keys.

"So, um, miss…"

"Call me Harley," the blue eyed woman offers, laying out the silver spoons and knives, Woof finally moving into the kitchen and offering to help with the plates that are actually quite heavy for just four, "Everybody does."

"Miss Harley," Ghoul tries out the name on his vocal chords, trying to sound pleasant, "Deidre tells us that you live out here all by yourself? That sounds… boring. No offense."

She is grinning at him as he thrums his fingers over ivory and ebony, a tune that she is familiar enough to near hum to playing with him. There is an all-knowing look in her eyes and he tries to pay more attention to the music than the way she looks at him and then over at Woof as she answers, "None to be taken. It is boring, but I have my own ways to keep occupied in my old age."

"Still working?"

"Heaven's no. Not in a little over a decade," she laughs, directing Deidre to open the old fashioned oven she has and take out the still warm mashed potatoes that smell divine to Woof as he is trying not to salivate onto the plates and napkins he is setting out, "But, I have many hobbies. You have to at my age or you may end up in Arkham."

"Nanna was a historian and psychiatrist," Deidre offered up, trying not to drop the heavy pot in her hands and maneuver her fingers in the giant, slightly stiff oven mitts that look like sort of like it was made from the leather of an old shoe, "Now she collects old books for her library and does stuff with herbs for the people at the community center. You know, like alternative medicine."

Ghoul had started in on a set of music that was sitting on the piano's top; it was an old, old song with the title _Lulu's Back in Town_printed in a sort of prissy calligraphic style at the top in a sort of burgundy red. The music notes that ordered his fingers about were hand written and in stone grey print, tiny little garnet hearts and smiley faces on each corner of the page. Much more appealing than when he was learning music, "Isn't that illegal?"

"She doesn't use the _other_ alternative stuff you're thinking of, **Carter**," Deidre said as calmly as possible, still smiling, but words spoken through teeth practically welded together.

"…Oh," The blonde teen responded lamely, Woof smiling in his expense, "So…actual herbs and stuff?"

Harley nodded, "No need to be embarrassed, lots of older people use what you're thinking about. And even if you can get a card to use it, I prefer not to go near the stuff. I'm all about using the right homegrown plants and sometimes I use acupuncture. You can come and eat now."

Ghoul stops mid-key and, without much preamble, near tripping over his long legs to get off of the bench, he closed the case that protected the keys from dust and walked into the kitchen.


End file.
